Ever since we first visited the Mt
Anne area, both Matthew and I had been fascinated by the prospect of getting to
and climbing both Scotts Peak (669m) and Mt Solitary (852m). When we discussed
this particular trip, we thought it might
be a good idea to climb Scotts Peak on the way back from Mt Solitary, if there
was enough daylight remaining. As they are both now situated (marooned) in the
enlarged Lake Pedder access needed a greater degree of preparation than our
walks usually involve. We also realised that, because it is isolated, relatively
few walkers visit Mt Solitary, so we should expect a lot of scrub and any tracks
might be well and truly overgrown or non-existent.

Being an accomplished sea-kayaker
(see his exploits at
http://mwatton.customer.netspace.net.au),
Matthew would have had no difficulty in reaching Mt Solitary but for me it was a
different matter. So when Matthew suggested taking our Savage Gull (3.4m)
aluminium dinghy with his Evinrude 8HP outboard I thought this was too good an
opportunity to miss.

We both realised it was going to
be a fairly long day so we arranged to meet at 6.45am for the drive from
Mornington, on Hobart's Eastern Shore, to the boat ramp at Scotts Peak Dam.

The drive to Scotts Peak Dam was
uneventful and, at the boat ramp, it became clear that Matthew had done an
excellent job of preparing the boat, with all the mandatory items plus an extra
pair of paddles and a toolkit with spare plugs and wrench, etc.

After changing into our walking
gear and stowing our boots, gaiters, poles and packs we set off on the 30-minute
trip to Mt Solitary. There was a stiff breeze that we were heading into so we
tried to make use of any available shelter (Scotts Peak, for instance). On
reaching Mt Solitary we pulled the boat up onto the heath, away from the water's
edge and roughly tied a rope to some small, handy shrubs.

The Walk

By the time we were ready to start
the ascent it was already 11.00am. Notes from the Bushwalk Australia website we
had read indicated that previous walkers had taken roughly 2½ to 3 hours to
reach the summit and about 2 hours to return to the shoreline. However, these
accounts were dated from the 2008/2010 period and we all know how scrub grows in
a virtually continually damp environment!! But, they were probably younger,
fitter walkers as well.

We chose to go up a prominent
ridge directly in front of us, that would take us straight to the summit. The
initial part of the walk was easy, through knee-high to thigh-high heath and
buttongrass but, as the actual climb began we encountered rock outcrops and
faces that needed to be either clambered over or around on small ledges. We were
also frequently struggling through head-high wiry bauera and unforgiving banksia
marginata shrubs. Matthew once said he detected the smell of burning. As he had
just dislodged a large lump of rock that bounced off other rocks, we concluded
the smell was from rocks striking each other, as in a flint igniter. We thought
it would be unlikely we could start a bushfire, given the amount of wet
vegetation, but it could just be possible in very hot, dry conditions.

We quickly discovered that it
could be potentially dangerous to trust to handholds or footholds, even though
they might appear to be "rock solid". On one occasion in particular, Matthew was
climbing an almost vertical 3m face when the large chunk of rock he reached for
suddenly broke away and he fell - fortunately into reasonably forgiving shrubs
but with a large bruise on his inside right upper arm. From then on, whenever we
used a handhold or a foothold we tested it before committing to using it. Just
plain, basic common sense, but we had to learn it.

This was definitely a serious
wake-up call we couldn't afford to ignore. On the ascent I carelessly bent one
of my Leki poles when I slipped and fell onto the pole. It may be fixable. When
we were doing more rock scrambling than bush work Matthew offered to stow my
poles with his on the outside of his pack so that we had better use of our
hands, without the poles getting in the way.

For me, as a committed
non-rock-climber I had a few hairy moments. For example, when negotiating around
a rock wall I needed to place my right boot onto a narrow, small ledge, just
using the inside edge of my boot. Fortunately, there were good handholds. I then
had to swing my left leg through between the rock and my right leg to find a
good step for my left boot, then push across the wall and take another grab at a
good hold. Way out of my comfort zone. Even though the "drop" would have been no
more than 3m or 4m it would not have been a pleasant experience.

After a few rest stops for a drink
and cheese stick we finally reached the large summit cairn structure at 3.00pm.
A 4-hour climb with no track to follow was starting to take its toll on my
ageing legs. We stayed on the summit only long enough to take a few photos and
have a sandwich and a quick drink.

The views all around us were truly
spectacular. Mt Anne still had some snow and it was the first time I had seen it
from this angle. Very impressive, as also were the Western and Eastern Arthurs,
including iconic Federation Peak. Dozens of peaks. We also saw as far as Mt
Picton and Pindars Peak. Away to the north-west was the Frankland Range.

We started back down at 3.15pm and
were able to follow a faint pad for some time, that had not been entirely
obliterated . Not far from the top I slipped while clambering down a rock face,
causing me to incur a nasty whack on my right thigh, just above the knee and a
cut to my face at the right corner of my mouth, which did not want to stop
bleeding.

Virtually from that point on I was
feeling quite uncoordinated and found myself slipping and falling over more
frequently as we descended. Matthew, being the patient and caring son that he
is, waited for me to catch up. It must have been frustrating for him but he
never once showed it, but rather encouraged me to keep plugging on.

As we used up more and more time
it became apparent that it would be close to dark by the time we reached the
boat and the return boat trip would be in darkness.

We eventually made it back to the
boat by 6.15pm, in the final moments of dusk and wasted no time heading back to
the boat ramp.

After the Walk

Fortunately, the water was dead
calm and we were able to plane along in perfect conditions (apart from the
darkness). Venus was easily visible as the only light in the sky, away to the
north-west. It appeared huge through a thin veil of cloud that probably
distorted its shape.

Approaching the boat ramp I
changed my walking boots for my gum boots and put on my headtorch, ready to jump out at the end of our
trip. Matthew checked his GPS and found we were spot on target for the boat
ramp. As we drew near, Matthew cut the motor and raised it out of the water,
allowing the boat to drift gently up to the stony edge of the lake.

Being the master-mariner that I
thought I was, I jumped over the side with a rope. However, my legs, in their
weakened condition, failed to support me in the normal manner legs are designed to
function and I plunged forward, face first, into 30cms of very cold Lake Pedder
water. Fortunately, no serious physical harm done.

By this time it was about 6.45pm.
I quickly changed into my dry clothes, on Matthew's orders, and then helped get
the boat onto the trailer for the return trip.

Matthew called home on his
satellite phone just after 7.00pm to let Suzanne, my wife, know we were OK and
were going to take our time driving back to civilisation.

While driving along Scotts Peak
Road we saw many pademelons and Bennetts wallabies and I was prompted to say
that there were so many animals there could be a plethora. To which Matthew
replied that there might even be two plethoras. As a result of avoiding animal
carnage, our road speed was
closer to 40kms/hr than it was to 70 or 80.

Earlier in the day, on the way to
Lake Pedder as we passed through Maydena, we stopped briefly at the ex-Forestry
office (now an attractive restaurant) to ask about their closing time, knowing
we would be very keen to get a hot drink and something to eat on the way home.
The owner told us he would normally close at about 3.00pm but this day might be
open later, until about 7.30pm or 8.00pm.

When we eventually arrived back at
Maydena at 8.50pm we had given up any hope of a hot drink so we were a bit
surprised to see lights on and a person inside. However, as we approached to
pull up in the forecourt area we saw a "Closed" sign on the door. We thought he
might just have closed so we walked up to the door. To our surprise he unlocked
the door and invited us in, then proceeded to make coffee, hot chocolate and
toasted sandwiches for us. Such good service, with a smile, and we will
certainly return when on future visits to the area.

By the time we eventually reached
my car, parked in Mornington, it was about 10.30pm. So ended a very enjoyable
walk in South-West Tasmania, although it wasn't without its share of dramas and
challenges.

Thank you, Matthew, for your
patience with my slow pace and for being a considerate son and friend.